The Seventh Year
by Katharin the Dragon
Summary: It's Ron's very last year before he will leave Hogwarts and a certain bushy-haired girl forever. One last chance to make a difference. In the meantime, Voldemort is on the loose...
1. Introduction

· · · · · ·   
**The Seventh Year**  
· · · · · · 

  
  
**Chapter One, Part One**  
_Introduction_  
  


There have been many stories told about that infamous year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Most of them center around a wonderful boy named Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and tell the tale of how he was singularly responsible for the destruction of the Dark Lord. This story is not going to be one of those. This story is about another boy, Harry's best friend in the whole wide world.

Ron Weasley was a middle child, average in almost every way. He was good enough at school, (especially charms, though no one seemed to notice), fair at Quidditch, and decent-looking. He was a carrot top, but he was the next-to-youngest of seven carrot-tops, so no one seemed to notice. His hand-me-down robes and second-hand pets ensured that no one really looked his way twice. His heart was good, and he had a habit of standing up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves.

But no one seemed to notice.

"Usually," he commented to the mirror one day late in the summer, "Girls only like me because Harry's decided not to like them."

Hermione snorted from the other side of the room.

"It's true," he said indignantly.

"Right," Hermione said drily. "_That's_ if you're lucky, Ron."

"SUre, Hermione, and you, I imagine, are Miss Congeniality," he retorted.

Hermione pretended to count spots on the ceiling. "I'm not as unnoticed as you would like to think, Ron Weasley," she said haughtily.

"The ability to brew up the perfect love potion doesn't _really_ make you desirable, Mione," he said. "Nor does being McGonagall's favorite count as _being noticed_."

Hermione glared at him.

Harry burst in, just then, with Ginny Weasley close on his heels. Harry had grown into a tall, sensitive young man, lean and muscular, pale of complexion, with emerald eyes burning out at you. Ginny, by contrast, had a gently filled out figure. She was always ten pounds heavier than she wanted to be, but she was shaped just right so that all of the Gryffindor males - and some of Slytherin, too - looked up when she entered the room. Her red hair was thick, and piled onto her shoulders in soft, sophisticated curls. She had a brilliant smile.

Hermione felt awkward and plain by comparison. She was wide in the wrong places and flat in the others. Her eyes were small and brown, and her face always seemed just a little too softly expressioned for beauty - too much cheek, not enough cheekbone. Her hair was as mouse-brown and bushy as ever.

Ron felt as awkward as she, though he would have died before admitting it. The truth was, he was shaping up rather nicely. Long hours of Quidditch practice left him well-muscled and almost tan (the Weasley complexion had a tendency to burn rather than tan), and he was admirable tall. Certainly he felt tall when Hermione was standing just underneath him, and had to lift her chin straight up to insult him. He rather liked that.

But other days he would watch Harry and Ginny sadly - it was so obvious that Ginny adored Harry. Who wouldn't? Why, he adored Harry himself. Everyone did. Harry was smarter than he, the favorite of every teacher and, again, every female.

And he was just Ron Weasley. The sixth Weasley child. His brothers were curse-breakers, dragon-tamers, big-shot Ministry men, and business-owners. His best friend was the youngest ever auror-in-training, and the girl he liked was a natural choice to be a teacher.

Girl he liked... say rather, his best girlfriend. Rather again, say 'friend who was a girl but would never look his way'. Not that he wanted her to. Not Hermione Granger. Not for Ron Weasley. 

"Harvest hayride's beginning in half an hour," Ginny declared happily. "Are you two dressed yet?"

Ron fussed with his hair again, scowling at the mirror. "Might as well give up, dear," crooned the mirror. "That's as good as it's going to get."

Hermione frowned. "I'd better go and change shirts. I'll be back." She bounced up off the bed and kissed Ron cheekily on the the side of his head. "The mirror's right, Ron. Give it up."

Ron growled and blushed to his ears.

Harry laughed, a deep cheerful laugh, as soon as Hermione was out of earshot. "When are you going to ask her out, mate?"

Ginny nodded in agreement. "It's about time, Ron. You've only got this coming year..."

"Bugger off, both of you. I'm not after Hermione."

"Sure, Ron, keep telling yourself that."

"Look, Ron, speaking from a girl's perspective-"

Ron turned away and pretended to become absorbed in the mirror.

Ginny plowed on. "Tonight would be perfect. The hayride is as _romantic_ as you can get. Just try and get a seat by her on the wagon-"

Ron choked with laughter. "_Romantic?_ Ginny, I am not romantic and I never will be. Now get out, I've got to change."

Ginny left the room bouncing like a little girl. Harry's eyes followed as she left. Ron shook his head in disgust.

Harry knew better than to try and directly confront his friend. Ron wasn't one to admit when he was wrong - he had to come around to things on his own terms.

"Cannons are having a good year, I hear," Harry said casually.

Ron lit up. "Great, isn't it? I knew they'd come around eventually. Dad's going to take me to see them next summer. Want to come?"

"Of course," Harry said solemnly, a slight smile behind his eyes.

  
  
  
  


"So," began Ginny slyly, "Has my brother asked you out yet?"

"Ginny, I thought better of you! This is Ronald Weasley we're talking about here. His brains are in his-"

"Hermione, I really think he fancies you," Ginny said seriously.

Hermione turned around and dropped her hair brush. "Really?"

"Really."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so, Gin. Ron wouldn't go for a girl like me. And even if he would - who says I would go for him?"

Ginny laughed. "You're as stubborn as my brother."

In the other room, Harry was giving the same lecture. "You deserve each other," he said in exasperation.

Ron looked in the mirror and laughed. "Whatever, mate. Anybody that wants her would have to be-"

  
  


"-bloody crazy," Hermione finished, walking into the room.

Ron jumped. "Who said I was finished? Get out!"

Ginny laughed.

Ron looked over at Hermione. Her bushy hair was pulled away from her face into a thick brown braid. Her features were small, smooth, and pretty. She was wearing a small black t-shirt with no sleeves over a pair of muggle jeans that showed her legs rather well. Ron was not used to seeing her legs. He grinned a bit, only _just_ conscious that he was studying her intently. She gave him a little smile and he looked away quickly.

His gaze caught the mirror again. He looked like... like himself. Just ordinary old middle child Ron, hoping someone would notice.

Maybe Hermione would.


	2. A Muggle Hayride

· · · · · ·   
**The Seventh Year**  
· · · · · · 

  
  
**Chapter One, Part Two**  
_A Muggle Hayride_   
  


It was a crystal-clear night. The air was velvety, slightly warm but with a pleasant breeze, and the sky was a subtle purple. A few stars twinkled through. A clump of deciduous trees stretched their black arms into the sky, reaching upwards in adoration. Below, a bonfire roared. A group of teenagers, mostly muggles, were gathered around it, warming their cheeks and hands. 

A tall muggle girl with long thin brown hair was chatting comfortably with Ron. "My uncle Jack lets us have a hayride here every year, just to kick off the school year. It's loads of fun. I don't remember seeing you here before." 

"No, I haven't been here before." 

"Are you new to the area, then? " she prompted. 

"No, I live an hour away," Ron answered. "I'm a friend of Hermione's."

"Oh, you go to St. Martins, too?"

Ron looked confused.

Hermione, who had been listening in, came up behind Ron. "Hey, Amber. I see you've met my _schoolmate_, Ron." She gave him a meaningful look.

Ron's face brightened. "Right! Hermione and I go to school together!" He looked triumphant, as though he had solved a particularly difficult puzzle. Hermione chuckled and shook her head.

"What's your favorite subject, Ron?" Amber asked curiously.

"I like Divination best, because-" Ron began. Hermione shot him a warning glance. He stopped mid-sentence.

Amber looked puzzled. "Divination? Is that some sort of advanced math class?"

"Yes," Hermione said quickly. "Amber, shouldn't your uncle be here with the wagon by now?"

"He _should_," she agreed seriously. "I'll go see what's keeping him. She smiled at Ron. "Nice meeting you, Ron." She winked. Hermione scowled after her.

_Divination_, Ron? You couldn't have saved the old joke for another time?"

Ron grinned, shrugging red-facedly. "Just slipped out, 'Mione, sorry. Forgot she was a muggle there for a minute. Besides, I'm pretty handy with Obliviate, now, I was all ready for her..."

Hermione laughed in spite of herself. "Where's your sister? I've been trying to find her all night."

Ron shrugged. "She and Harry have gone missing again. Are you surprised?"

Hermione snorted. "Not particularly. Prob'ly off snogging Harry-"

"Stop!" Ron protested "That's my little sister you're talking about!"

"Sorry," Hermione laughed. "Hey, look, the wagon's coming." She shivered a little over-dramatically.

"You cold?"

She looked away. "A bit. Forgot my coat, and these muggle clothes are so chilly..."

"Blimey, Hermione. Here, take my jacket." It was a worn-out windbreaker with a hole in the elbow, but Hermione accepted it with the graciousness of a queen. She looked up and smiled at him. "Knew you were good for something," she said playfully.

Her words were lost in a general uproar as the group piled onto the wagon. It was a trailer, really, a flat vehicle made for hauling hay, pulled by an old pick up truck. Ron was fascinated. The trailer was piled with bales of hay, and a good amount liberally spread across the wagon. Harry and Ginny were already in, sitting next to each other with flushed cheeks. There was hay caught in Ginny's fiery curls.

"Looks as though Ginny forgot her coat, too," Ron commented casually. Her shoulders were draped with Harry's traveler's cloak – a gift from his godfather, Sirius Black.

"That's odd," said Hermione distantly.

"Girls," was all Ron could say.

· · · · · · 

Worlds away, on the same night, two men were preparing for war, each in their own way. They had faced dark times before, and they were not afraid, but a sense of great heaviness loomed over them.

The one was an older, kindly looking wizard with a long white beard. He was wearing grey, wrinkled robes and a worried expression. The younger wore a more jaded expression. Premature age-line criss-crossed his face. His greasy black hair was tied back in an uncharacteristic pony-tail.

"Are you sure you don't want to take Fawkes with you?"

"I can hardly march into a deatheater's camp with your phoenix in tow, Albus. _Inconscpicuous_ is our by-word this year."

"I think he already suspects you, my friend."

"I agree. I'm afraid this may be my last visit," he whispered.

"You say that everytime, Severus," the older wizard replied with a gentle chuckle.

Severus Snape smiled wryly at his mentor. "It gets truer everytime."

"I know. If you won't take Fawkes, at least take my ring-"

"Nothing. He must not suspect. I-"

Their eyes met, and they embraced warmly. Two friends - bound together by time and mutual respect. The younger felt that he owed the older an incomprehensible debt, and laid down his life willingly for him, more than for any unseen cause. It was not the first time, nor would it be the last.

"Go," Albus Dumbledore commanded. "I know you will return."

Snape bowed crisply, took up his wand and bundle, and left.

Dumbledore sighed softly.

· · · · · · 

Harry and Ginny Had not been 'snogging'. It was, for the time being, the farthest thing from their minds. They were friends - great friends - but did not think of themselves as lovers yet. The word _love_ simply had not entered their conversation yet. They preferred each others company, and regarded each other as precious without having to ask why.

Being among Hermione's muggle friends was stimulating, but wore them out. Ginny was a terrible liar, and she stumbled over explanations of how she knew Hermione or what she did for fun. She hid behind Harry in the most literal sense, holding his hand or leaning her cheek on his back. She played shy. Harry played along, smiling fondly as she tripped over her words, or exchanging meaningful glances with the envious muggle males who understood their body language quite well.

Finally Harry drew Ginny aside and asked if she was alright. Ginny nodded shyly. "Want to go find the wagon?" he asked her. "We can try to get the best seats.

"Sure," she replied eagerly, smiling warmly at her friend. "Sorry I've been so bloody stupid, I-"

Harry grinned. "Hush," he admonished.

They crept around to where the tall maroon barn stood in the moonlight. "It's colder here, without the fire," Ginny said with a shiver.

"Girls never think to bring a coat," Harry said with a fond chuckle. He removed his cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around hers. He kissed her cheek.

Even in the darkness, he could see her face flush with pleasure. "Sorry," he said softly.

Ginny smiled and took his hand. "Don't be..."

Suddenly, Harry reached up and grabbed his temple. "Ow," he said under his breath.

Ginny frowned concernedly. "Your scar, Harry?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "Don't worry about it, though. Now that You-Know-Who is on the loose, it happens all the time. Come on."

He led her in through the gaping barn door. Sure enough, the wagon stood ready. Harry grinned and swung Ginny up into the wagon. She landed with a laugh into the sweet-smelling hay. "What are you doing, you loon?" she asked, laughing.

"Helping a lady up into her seat!" he responded innocently. He hopped into the wagon beside her.

She grinned and threw a clump of hay at him. "That's for your impertinence!"

"Is that right?" he demanded.

She nodded in the affirmative.

He laughed and pounced at her suddenly, pinning her down into the hay. She shivered and not from the cold.

Suddenly, light flooded the barn and a merry laugh echoed in their ears. "Starting early tonight, are we kids?"

Harry sat bolt upright. "Sorry, sir, we just-"

"No need to explain," the voice replied. A muggle farmer stepped up to them. "I was in love once, myself. But the other kids are waiting for the hayride, so you'd better make yourself presentable." he winked at Ginny, who was blushing furiously. "Got some hay in your hair, there, love."

· · · · · · 

Ron found it easy enough to sit next to Hermione - she seemed to have no objections, although a muggle boy Ron recognized as Hermione's next-door neighbor didn't seem overly thrilled. 

It was cold, but Ron didn't regret the loss of his jacket. Hermione's eyes were almost as bright as the stars twinkling overhead, and her cheeks were flushed with the chilly night air. Ron wondered fleetingly what Hermione would think if he kissed her cheek once - she often did so to him, usually when he was being stubborn and she decided to let him win. For some reason he had never reciprocated, thinking she might be offended.

"What?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?" he replied gracelessly.

"Have I got something on my nose?"

"Oh. Er, yeah. Just there," he said, indicating the side of his nose.

"Where?"

"Er-" he reached over to wipe an imaginary smudge off her nose. "There," he said.

_-Now's your chance Weasley, kiss her cheek! Kiss her cheek!-_ Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, there was a cheering squad that sounded suspiciously like Fred and George.

He suddenly found the courage. "It's gone," he whispered hoarsely, then bent in to her face again and-

And the world went to hell.

There was a hideous green explosion, and a loud, crunching sound. The wagon careened madly, then stopped in its tracks so suddenly that it spilled to one side. Everyone scrambled out, most of them screaming and crying. Ron and Harry looked at each other, met eyes knowingly, each face pale and afraid.

The muggle girl Ron had spoken to earlier ran up to the truck in front of them. "Uncle Jack!" she screamed.

Hermione ran up to her. "What's wrong, Amber?"

The girl only had to point. Her uncle was slouched over the steering wheel of his truck. He was dead.

Ron, Harry, and Ginny were close on Hermione's heels. Ron squeezed Hermione's elbow. "Mione," he whispered. "Look."

He pointed upwards. The dark mark was blazoned across the night sky.


	3. To Hogwarts

· · · · · ·   
**The Seventh Year**  
· · · · · · 

  
  
**Chapter One, Part Three**  
_To Hogwarts_  
  


On the surface, the train ride to Hogwarts was as noisy and bustling as ever. But somewhere deep inside of Ron, there was a pervading silence. He suspected it was his heart that was so quiet, and he suspected it was sorrow and fear that were having this curious, quieting effect on him. Sorrow for a muggle man he had never met, and fear for... well, he hated to think of it so dramatically, but fear for life as he knew it. The return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had thus far affected him only indirectly. There had been those muggles at the World Cup, and some muggle-borns had left the school last year, their parents more interested in keeping their children safe than having them learn magic, regardless of the benefits, but so far Ron had not really been touched. Being friends with Harry seemed to carry a special boon - no matter how much trouble they ended up in, they lived to tell the story.

This time seemed different somehow. The only muggle-born wizard at that hayride, to Ron's knowledge, was Hermione. He steered away from that train of thought every time it swam across his consciousness - the Dark Lord going after _his_, er, friend, was unthinkable. Surely the muggle farmer, Jack, had done nothing to be on the wrong side of a dark wizard.

More likely, he reasoned, you-know-who was after Harry again. But that scared him, too. He didn't like to think that Harry was so easy to find.

He sighed.

"Have a candy, Ron," Hermione whispered enouragingly. She seemed to have heard his wistful sigh, for she was smiling empathetically. She dropped a Bertie Bott's into his hand.

"Hey, thanks a lot, Hermione." He popped the bean into his mouth, chewed once, and promptly spat it out again. "Sardine!" He grimaced.

Hermione was choking with laughter. She raised her eyesbrows towards Ginny. "Told you it was a sardine." She grinned wickedly.

"You did that on purpose? Really, Hermione, I'm hurt." Yet somehow, he wasn't.

Her prank jolted him back into reality. He was sitting next to Harry in the private car given to the Head Boy and Head Girl - Harry and Hermione, _naturally_. Ginny and Hermione were sitting opposite them. There was a royal spread of sweets on the seat, between himself and Harry. Hermione had insisted that they were too old to be wolfing down so many sweets, and Ginny politely declined - something about wanting to watch her weight - but Ron wasn't really listening to either of them. He was trying to keep things as normal as possible, and that meant a full-fledged raid on the trolley.

Incidentally, quite a few of Fred and George's trick sweets had already managed to find their way into circulation. Harry had purchased a very convincing looking chocolate wand which went aggravatingly limp when you tried to pick it up. Hermione had deigned to purchase a packet of their improvement on sugar quills, realistic writing utensils in fruity flavors, which actually wrote. She said the sugar would help her maintain energy levels while trying to finish her homework.

"...maybe a teacher, but I really want to do something different, you know. I've _seriously_ thought about accepting a job at the ministry, but I don't know. Even that seems sort of limiting. There aren't many witches in the ministry, and the ones that are there have dull-sounding jobs, like _Floo Network Regulator_... I want a bit more of a challenge after school, I think. I'm definitely going to go straight into University."

Ginny nodded politely at Hermione's lecture. Harry smiled knowingly at her. "What about you Harry," Ginny asked gently. 'What are you going to do when you graduate?"

"I'm going to be an Auror, and track down Voldemort." Harry said firmly.

Ron and Ginny both winced at Harry's casual use of the forbidden name, but they had both given up trying to cure him of it.

"I am hoping that Voldemort will be vanquished before any of you graduate," came a kindly, familiar voice from the door.

"Professor! I didn't know you were on the train!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, smiling with pleasure. "It's good to see you."

Ron and Ginny nodded mutely in agreement.

The headmaster nodded slowly and smiled. "And I am happy to see the four of you, well and safe. I am glad to find you all together. I wished to check up on you before I speak with the other students about the... unfortunate incident at the muggle hayride.

Ron's face darkened. "I'm afraid they already know, sir...."

Draco Malfoy had been the first to greet the four friends when they boarded the train.

"You will learn, Mr. Weasley, when you have to deal with students yourself, that it is always good to tell them the truth, even if they may believe that they already know it. The announcement may have trickled from one student to another until the story gets back to you, and you find it is not a muggle-born farmer, but Father Christmas himself who Voldemort has defeated. No, tell them all at once, and set the story straight. That's the best way." He looked Ron in the eye. "Remember that, young Weasley."

Ron didn't understand at all, but he nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore nodded, then frowned. "Miss Granger, why did I come in here?"

"To check on us, before you give the news to the other students, sir."

"Ah, no! It was to give you this." He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, white envelope. He handed it to Harry. "One ring for each of you. Just in case."

· · · · · ·   


Girls are not like boys. In particular, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were nothing alike. At the moment, Ron was not aware of Hermione's existence at all. He was lost in the circular hum of 'Beaver, Tabitha - Gryffindor!' 'Cattail, Jared - Ravenclaw!'. He and Harry were quietly booing the Slytherins and throwing encouraging glances at the Gryffindor first-years.

By contrast, Hermione was studying Ron's face intently without anyone noticing - including herself. Her favorite game was trying to pick out constellations with his freckles. None of her family had freckles, so she found them mildy fascinating. She was well aware of Ron Weasley and had been well aware of him since first year. In fourth year, he and Harry had fallen out, and she had spent several months trying to reconcile them. She spent most of those months trying to reassure Harry that Ron still cared about him. Ron wanted little to do with her. Those had been lonely months.

If she had to pinpoint when exactly she had fallen in love with him, it probably would have been somewhere in those few months.

Just then, Ron turned his head, and Hermione hurriedly looked down. She studied her hands. She turned them over and glanced at the silver band around her index finger. The ring of protection that Dumbledore had given her did not fit on any other finger. There was a complicated engraving circling the smooth band. She could not read it yet, but intended to look it up in the library at the nearest opportunity. The graceful script reminded Herminoe of Tolkien's elvish languages. Those were fictional - weren't they? - but it was someplace to start. She sighed and turned her hand over again.

Ron met her eyes for a second, then looked down at the ring on his own hand. His ring was golden, and the inscription seemed to be some form of hieroglpyhics. It reminded him of the towering pyramids Bill worked in. Hermione wanted to translate it for him, and had taken down a rough sketch of it in her notebook.

Hermione herself had certainly not changed, he reflected. But something had, however subtly. For one thing, their seating arrangements were different from last year. For the past six years, Harry had sat in the middle of himself and Hermione. This year, Ginny had beat them all to the table, and Harry sat down right next to her. Ron had been at a complete loss. If he sat next to Harry, where would Hermione sit? Would she be angry at him? A creature of habit, he sat down anyway. Hermione had sat down right next to him, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I have an announcement to make," Professor Dumble announced gravely from the staff table. The bustling room quieted.

"A tragedy has occurred. An innocent muggle man has been murdered. Several of our students were enjoying a recreational activity with a band of muggle children. They were being chaperoned by a muggle farmer, who was taken down by the killing curse-"

There was a low audible gasp. Apparently, not all of the students were aware of what had happened.

"Calm down, please. That is not all. After his death, the Dark Mark was found-"

Dumbledore's voice was drowned out by the roar of students - talking, whispering, even a few scattered screams from some of the more _impressionable_ females. Professor McGonnagal stood to her feet, trying to settle the Gryffindors. 

"Silence!" Dumbledore's voice cut through the chaos. Again, the room fell still.

"There is no need to panic. You are safe here. You simply need to be aware of the situation." Dumbledore took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Ron noticed in that moment how old the headmaster really was - how had he never seen it before? "If you have any questions, you can ask the heads of your houses..." He looked from one table to the other, as though counting them all. "You will be safe here," he repeated finally.

Suddenly Ron knew what was really different about this evening. There was a vacant seat at the staff table. 


	4. Schedules Detention

· · · · · ·   
**The Seventh Year**  
· · · · · · 

  
  
**Chapter Two, Part One**  
_Schedules, Detention_  
  
_Author's note: Am attempting to keep the story in canon. Since the first chapter was written pre-OotP, this may result in some inconsistencies. If you find them, please either post a review or email me, okay? Thanks a million. Thanks to all my reviews, you guys make me so happy :) Also, I do not have a beta reader, so if you find typos, please put them in your reviews as well!_  
_p.s. Celtic Ember - I don't pair them! :) My only Snapeish story is the Antidote, and it's not a S/H romance... Hermione belongs to Ronniekins. :)  
  
_

Ron was looking over both his schedule and his breakfast indifferently. He and Harry were pursuing the same career path, so it was no surprise that their schedules were identical. Harry's natural talent for defense against the dark arts had landed him already in pre-auror training, so Ron was grateful for whatever time they were still together.

Hermione, on the other hand, was taking more basic classes. She did not know what she wanted to do, so she was taking classes that she enjoyed. She was excluded from their advanced potions class (all poisons and antidotes) and of course was still not taking divination. At the moment she was shoveling eggs in as though she had been starved all summer.

"Harry," Ron said suddenly.

"Hrrmm?" Harry asked through a mouthful of custard.

"How is it that we are taking this auror-level potion course and we still get stuck with the Slytherins?"

"Really, Ron," said Hermione. "You don't think any of the Slytherins want to be aurors?" She swallowed a bit of toast. "You do realize it's something of a fad right now."

"Hermione," Ginny muttered warningly.

"Er, not that I think that's why you two want to be one or anything," she added quickly. 

"We just want to make the world safe for you two," Harry said with a wink.

Ginny blushed. "Now you're just being silly."

"You don't think Malfoy's trying to become an auror? To get in good with the ministry or something?" Ron asked.

"Malfoy has about as much chance at becoming an auror as Gilderoy Lockhart," Ginny said. "He doesn't exactly have a good record, you know.

"Future aurors aren't the only ones allowed in the class," Harry said, reading from his own schedule.

"As a matter of fact, I happen to know that Draco is trying to become a potions master," said Hermione.

"Eh? And how would you know that?" demanded Ron.

"Because unlike some people, I keep my ears open."

"Right."

"Hurry up and eat, Ron, you're going to be late," said Ginny.

"Shut it, Ginny, you're starting to sound like mum."

"Shut it, both of you, you're starting to sound like..."

"Like Hermione," Ron finished, glaring at his sister.

"I'll take that as a compliment, dearest brother," she said, smiling sweetly at him.

Hermione pushed away from the table. "I'll see you two in transfiguration, and you at lunch, Ginny."

"Where are you going?" Ron asked.

"Library."

· · · · · ·   


Ginny hadn't even known that the school had an old wand collection. She had cleaned her brothers' wands many times before, but this was ridiculous. Two hundred and fifty-seven so far, and there were at least another fifty on the table in front of her.

"Serves you right for getting caught, Weasley," she muttered.

"Gin," a voiced whispered in her ear.

Ginny turned around, but there was no one there. "Hello?" she whispered hesitantly. The air shimmered and Harry stepped out. Ginny jumped in fright. "What on earth-?"

"Sorry, Gin," Harry said sheepishly. "Invisibility cloak. I didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing here? You don't have detention, too, do you?"

"Er, no. Hermione and your brother are at it again . . . "

"Say no more," Ginny said, nodding. She and Harry had formed a bond over the summer. Hermione and Ron were fighting worse than ever, and each fight was longer than the next. Harry seemed to be on edge, and he would silently retreat at the first sign of a row. Nobody noticed but Ginny. One day she followed him out to the orchard. He was sitting with his back against a gnarled old apple tree. She had coaxed him out of his dark humor and got him laughing again. After that, it became a ritual, even a game. Harry would sneak out when Ron or Hermione got irritated, and Ginny would go to find him. It seemed to comfort him.

"What are they on about now?" Ginny asked.

"Hermione's beating Ron at wizard's chess. Ron thinks she must be cheating."

"And what do you think?" she asked.

"I think he's tired. He's been out at the Quidditch pitch every night. Hermione's given up trying to get him to do his own homework She just hands it over when he gets back in."

Ginny laughed. "Well, we're up against Slytherin first thing, aren't we? He'd better be down there practicing his arse off. We nearly didn't get the cup last year." 

Harry blushed. "That was more my fault then Ron's. If it hadn't been for your last goal-"

"If you say so, love," Ginny interrupted. Now it was her turn to blush.

Neither one of them said anything for a bit.

"So what are you in for?" Harry asked at last.

"Ron didn't tell you? Never mind then, it doesn't..." 

They heard footsteps.

"McGonagall's coming back. Hide," Ginny commanded. 

"Miss Weasley. Perhaps if you would spend less time talking to yourself, and more time cleaning, you'd be finished by now." 

"Professor, I've had the summer off. I really need to practice..." 

Professor McGonagall sighed and dropped another cauldron down on the table. "Finish these and you can go ..." 

Ginny looked pleadingly at her. "It's nearly dark already." 

"I'm sorry, Miss Weasley. You'll have to practice tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow Slytherin has the pitch." 

"I'm sorry, but this must be finished," She turned abruptly and walked away. "The quicker you finish, the quicker you can go, Miss Weasley. Perhaps you'll think twice before skipping my class again." 

As soon as the heavy door slammed closed, Harry was visible again. "Skipping class, Miss Weasley? What would your mother say?" He was grinning broadly. 

Ginny was on him in a flash; she had him pinned against the cold stone wall. "Not a word to my mother, Harry Potter. I had a good reason." 

He smiled right into her eyes. "And what would that be?"

She faltered and dropped her eyes, flushed to the ears. "I can't tell you - yet."

"Yet?" he prompted.

"Yet," she repeated with a nod. She let him go. "But I will, I promise." She blushed. "Er, Harry..."

"Hmmm?"

"Sorry for jumping you like that."

"I rather liked it."

· · · · · ·   


"See?" Hermione said, sliding the last pawn back into place. "Perfectly legal, you insufferable git."

Ron's face was red, whether from embarrassment or residual anger, none could tell.

"Fine. Rematch?"

"Fine."

"How'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Remember the entire game backwards." 

"I read it out of a book."

"You can't read chess out of a book!"

"Of course you can, Ron. You should take a trip down to the library sometime. You'd be amazed what you can find in a book."

He sighed. "Your move. Where's Harry got to, anyway?"

"Pawn to E5. He left when you started yelling at me."

"I wasn't yelling at you. You were yelling at me. Pawn to A6."

"Wasn't."

"Were."

"Wasn't."

"Were."

"Wasn't."

They played in absolute silence for about half an hour.

"Were. Checkmate."

Hermione huffed. "You win. Finished your antidotes essay yet?"

"Not yet. You?"

"I'm not in your potions class, Ron."

He smiled weakly at her. "I know, Hermione."

She scowled at him. "Well, come on, then. We ought to have been in bed an hour ago."

"I know. Thanks..."

"Hmmm," she replied.

Just then, then portrait hole slid open. First Ginny, then Harry slipped through.

"Everyone else gone to bed?" Ginny asked.

Ron looked around. "We hadn't noticed," he admitted.

"Well, I'm going, too. Coming, Hermione?"

"Sorry, Gin, I promised Ron to help with his essay," Hermione answered.

"Oh, alright. Don't be too long."

"I'll try."

"I guess I'll head to bed, too, then," Harry said reluctantly, watching Ginny leave. "Unless you two need me?"

"We're all right, mate," Ron said quickly.

"All right, then."

There was a deafening silence in the common room. "Right, I guess we should get to work, then," Ron prompted.

"Why was Harry with Ginny?"

"What?"

"Didn't you say Ginny had detention?"

"Oh. Yeah. Why?"

"Don't you think it's a little strange that Harry disappears while we're fighting and comes back with Ginny?"

"Not really. He did that all summer. You are a bit thick, aren't you?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she agreed absently. "Listen, Ron, I've just realized I'm quite tired, after all."

"Oh. Fine. Night, then."

Hermione chuckled and tucked her legs underneath her on the couch. "I didn't say I was going to bed. I said I was tired. I just don't feel like doing homework, that's all. Your essay isn't due until after the Quidditch game. It can wait."

Ron gaped at her. "Are you feeling all right, Hermione?"

"Fine, thanks. So what's going on with Ginny?"

"Eh? You stayed up to talk about Ginny?"

"I'm worried about her. D'you know she skived off transfiguration today?"

Ron sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"Any idea why?"

He shook his head. "Was hoping you would, actually. I thought it might be a girl thing."

"What do you mean, a girl thing? Ginny started her cycle years ago, Ron..."

Ron winced and covered his ears. "Too much information, Hermione. I meant, like sneaking off to see a boyfriend of something."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Was Harry in class all day?"

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Everybody knows my sister fancies Harry, but she's been dating around since her fourth year."

"Not anymore."

"Why not?"

"It's Harry's last year. It's her last chance to try and get him to like her before he leaves for good..." her voice trailed off.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Ron agreed grudgingly. "I reckon he already does, though."

"Yeah, I think so, too."

The fire crackled in the grate. Hermione shivered and pulled her robe closer over her shoulders.

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Hey, what?"

"Where are you going when school is over?"

"Like for the summer, or for school?"

"Both."

"Home for the summer, I guess. Then to Onicoeur. Not sure what I'm going to study, but I know I want to stay in school."

"Maybe you could come to the Burrow for the summer."

Hermione smiled. The reflected flames danced across her face, softening her features. "That would be fun, Ron," she whispered.

"Er," he paused. "You and Harry, I mean."

"Right," agreed Hermione. She sighed and stood up. "I'm going to bed."

"All right, then. 'Night."

"Night, Ron."

· · · · · ·   


Half of the student population was missing. Some were the children of death-eaters or would-be death eaters, too ashamed or angry to return. Some were muggle borns whose parents were savvy enough to figure out that there children were in danger. Whatever the reason, every house was decimated, Gryffindor not the least. The dorm rooms were empty and lonely, so students were sharing across grade levels. Ginny and Hermione had willingly bunked up together.

The curtains on Ginny's bed were drawn, but Hermione could see the light of a candle through them. She poked her head through to the foot of the bed.

"Hullo, Gin? Awake still?"

Ginny grinned. "Don't you knock?"

Hermione climbed in and sat cross-legged on the end of the bed. "Sorry. What's going on?"

"You sound like Harry. 'Sorry this.' 'Sorry that.' 'Sorry your teacher's an arse.' 'Sorry Voldemort's evil, all my fault.' "

Hermioned laughed. "You sound like a little girl I used to know. 'Harry this, Harry that...'" she teased.

Ginny smiled. "I am that little girl."

"So... he came to pick you up after detention?"

"He came to rescue me _during_ detention, wasn't that sweet? He even helped he finish polishing McGonagall's wand supply."

"That was nice."

"Nothing yet?"

"No." Ginny sighed. "I'm sure he fancies, me, though, the way he smiles at me now, it's different..."

"You know what, Gin?"

"What?"

"I think we're starting to sound like Lavendar and Parvati.

Ginny groaned. "You're right. More interesting subject than my nitwit brother and your fascinating friend-" Hermione rolled her eyes - "the rings. Any progress in the library today?"

"Nearly, but no. Ginny, did you know that there were wizards and muggles in ancient Egypt?"

"Of course!"

"Well, I didn't. They even have their own hieroglyphics. I was trying to use a muggle book to translate your brother's ring, but the letters are different. I found a wizard book today. I'll probably get to start tomorrow."

"Hermione... why don't you just copy the inscription off and send it to Bill? I'm sure he'd love to translate it for you."

Ginny's brother Bill, the oldest Weasley, worked in Egypt as a treasure hunter. "Why didn't I think of that?" Hermione groaned.

Ginny chuckled. "What about the others?"

"Well, mine is elvish. I can't find a book on that, though. For some reason, there are no books at all on elvish in Hogwarts library. I'm going to write mum and ask her to print some things out from my computer at home. The muggles seem to have more information that we do, isn't that odd? I haven't got to see Harry's ring, yet. And yours is the easiest."

"French, right? But I don't know what it means."

"It means, '_The heart has its reasons that reason can not know._'

Ginny sighed. "That's beautiful."

Hermione nodded. "It's a famous muggle quote. It reminds me of you, too."

"Why?"

"Because you loved Harry before you even knew why."

"So true... well, I knew why. His eyes. And his hair. And his shy smile. And..."

"We're talking about boys again, Ginny. Let's go to bed.

"G'night Hermione.

"'Night, Gin.

· · · · · ·   


The seventh year boys dorm hadn't changed a bit. Neville was snoring loudly. Seamus had kicked his covers off and was sleeping with his face towards the floor. Harry was staring sleeplessly at the ceiling. Ron crept in and slipped into his bed.

"Hey, Harry."

"Hrrmmm?"

"Haven't kissed my sister, have you?"

"No, Ron. I haven't kissed your sister."

"All right, then. G'night, Harry."

"Hey, Ron?"

"What?"

"Haven't kissed Hermione, have you?"

"Hermione can bloody well go kiss herself."

"Right. Not yet, then. G'night Ron."


End file.
